


Of Soldiers and Sailors

by kentucka



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Sinners and Saints (2010)
Genre: Crossover, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-13
Updated: 2011-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-25 17:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kentucka/pseuds/kentucka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NOPD Det. Sean Reilly follows a case to Hawaii. He spells trouble for Danny's blood pressure, but Steve thinks he's a BAMF.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Soldiers and Sailors

No more than a nanosecond had passed since the last gunshot echoed through the loft when Danny jumped up from his cover behind a leather couch. He had crossed the entire space in a heartbeat, pulled himself up to his full height, rearranged his face into a scowl, and pressed his finger rather painful-looking into the New Orleans cop's chest. Steve was again impressed by the menace Danny could present – the hottest temper Steve had ever experienced – even if he lacked the kind of training to physically back up the threats against ex-militaries. Although… Steve's jaw throbbed with the memory of a nasty right hook.

"Are you out of your mind? You're not even wearing a vest! Don't you have any regard for your own damned life? We're a team here, understood? You don't just wave and storm in there by yourself."

Yet Steve was more impressed by the calmness with which Sean endured Danny's telling-off. His eyes softened indulgently even if he didn't quite dare to smile. "I didn't wave," he put in when Danny drew breath, "I used hand signals. You know, used to communicate within a team so as not to give away one's position or plan to an enemy within earshot?"

Danny's speechlessness lasted for all of a second. Just when Steve had begun to think that those rants were almost more fun when directed at someone else, Danny turned to him. "Did the Army actually clone you?" he asked in all seriousness. "I'd thought that it was next to impossible that a second human being on this earth was as thick-headed, trigger-happy and suicidal as you. Let alone that they end up here and I have to save their ass in a gunfight, too."

Sean caught Steve's eye, cocked his head in a question and yes, Steve had noticed, but he didn't bother correcting Danny about the Army thing anymore. That only encouraged the behavior. Especially when in this instance, given Sean's Army background, it might have made a twisted sort of sense.

 _I doubt it_ , Steve thought, but a logical argument about the advancements (or lack thereof) in science wouldn't deter Danny one bit. He offered Sean a half-shrug instead, and the NOPD cop seemed to understand how Danny simply was worried, needed to let off steam now that the danger had passed.

"Aren't you a merry bunch of Rambos," Danny mumbled darkly at Kono, who happened to appear in the doorway with ill timing, and stalked off.

Apart from a sidelong glance, Kono ignored him. She brought a cuffed perp onto his feet and maneuvered him towards the exit. "I don't know about clones," she remarked with a grin, giving away that she'd eavesdropped on the exchange, "but you could pass as brothers. Same hairstyle and all."

Steve gaped rather dumbly at her retreating back and by sheer power of will did not give into the impulse to muster Sean – until they were back at headquarters and he could do so under the cover of staring into space while being bored to death by paperwork.

*

Steve reread the report he'd typed up. His mind flashed back to how he had kicked in the door and moved in first, Danny at his back, Sean taking up the rear. Two shots fired in an obvious panic missed by feet, brick dust raining down on their heads. The drug runner they'd come to pick up, the owner of the loft, wasn't proficient with firearms himself. That's why any thug smart enough to make it big in a literally cut-throat business would buy protection by hiring trained individuals. Those had spilled through the door on the left immediately, automatic weapons creating perforation lines in the walls.

They'd taken cover behind a thick leather couch and returned fire. Suddenly Sean had signaled that he'd dive for the small bar on the right to get a better angle, and was already half-way there without so much as a tac vest around his chest. Having no choice, they covered him as best as they could, but it was Sean who shot three of the mercs right between the eyes. The mirror, glass shelves and bottles behind him burst into a thousand pieces, but he never properly ducked behind the wooden counter, choosing aim over safety.

Steve shook his head to clear the memories, and stared at the words again. _Det. Reilly took down three targets in short succession and with great precision while under continuous fire._ He'd written hundreds of mission reports, quite a few as team leader, had recommended some of his men for mentions for bravery within them. But never had the clinical phrases ever sounded so awed to his own ears.

Since it was probably all in his head anyways, he hit the Print icon and signed it off, filing it with the team's reports. He then joined the others where they stood gathered around the touchscreen table, already going over confessions, witness reports and crime scene evidence which would lead them to the next link in the command chain of the drug cartel, slowly working their way upwards to the big boss. He listened to Sean's recounts of names he'd run across back in New Orleans and didn't think much of anything, until Chin leaned in and whispered: "Sorry, boss, I don't think you get to keep him."

*

"That's probably better for Danny's health, anyways," Steve replied, and clinked their Longboards together. "To home, even if it's not what it used to be."

"To fighting the good fight, making it safe again," Sean agreed.

Both took a long pull from their beers and set them back down, before Sean glanced at his watch.

"Sorry man, I didn't mean to keep you so late. You have a flight to catch tomorrow," Steve realized. The others had already left; Danny first to pick up Grace from a friend's birthday party, then Chin and soon after Kono, both citing their early morning stake-out to have worn them down. He'd only stayed because Sean was easy to be around and talk to, to a degree Steve hadn't experienced with anyone other than Danny, even if on a different level. Between beers five and six, he'd lost track of time.

"It's cool," Sean said with just a hint of southern drawl, testament that the alcohol hadn't left him entirely unaffected either. "Flight's in the afternoon, first class. A thank-you from the governor. She certainly knows how to motivate her people," he laughed.

Sean's smile was infectious, and Steve found himself staring at Sean's lips for a second too long. When he finally met Sean's eyes again, he could tell that he'd been caught.

"Wanna get outta here? I've still got a mini bar to raid."

Steve blinked. As innocent as the proposal sounded, the tense stillness in Sean's shoulders told him it really wasn't.

"I didn't know—" Steve stopped, realizing that he had no end for that sentence. _'I didn't know you were into guys'_ sounded offensive at best, accusatory at worst, while _'I didn't know I was being so obvious'_ was both a lie and humiliating. So he settled instead on an honest, straightforward: "Yeah." _Smooth Dog, indeed,_ Steve thought wryly. Catherine would probably laugh at him if he ever told her.

*

The taxi ride had been silent, and Steve quietly trailed after Sean up to his hotel room. Only when the door fell into its lock did Sean even look at him again.

"C'mere." His voice suddenly sounded a lot rougher than before.

So Steve went, stepping into his personal space there in the middle of the room, where either of them could back down but never did. Sean was only an inch or so shorter, now that Steve cared to notice.

"Does your team know?" Sean asked, and immediately tried to justify it. "Only trying to figure out the lay of the land."

"They probably have their own ideas," Steve said with a smile, thinking of Chin's comment about keeping Sean around, and Kono's good-natured ribbing when she was in a particularly happy mood.

"What about Danny?"

Steve's knee-jerk reaction was a biting _'What about him?'_ , but he kept it in check. "There's nothing—at least—I don't know. With Danny I'm never sure. All I know is that this," Steve nodded at the king-sized bed, "has nothing to do with him."

"Okay."

Steve raised an eyebrow at that word, so at odds with the weight of the original question, but it only made Sean grin. Like he'd just successfully pulled Steve's leg.

"Oh, you're such a bastard," Steve complained, grabbed a fistful of t-shirt and yanked Sean into a kiss.

The man had expected it and went forward easily, bracing himself by shifting one leg between Steve's, drawing a moan from him at the sudden pressure against his cock. Steve let his hands travel down to the trim waist, hitching up the shirt and finding warm skin underneath. Sean wasn't inactive either, and soon both shed their shirts to keep up with the building intensity of their touches.

A soft push was all it needed to have Sean sit down on the bed and lie back, so Steve could take his time exploring the colorful ink, tracing it alternately with fingers, teeth and tongue. Sean jerked as Steve bit his abs and popped his jeans open at the same time, but raised his butt obediently when Steve wanted to peel him out of his pants and boxers.

Sneakers toed off, Steve stepped out of his remaining clothes as well, then hesitated as they took each other in. Sean's gaze was riveted by Steve's cock, which Steve took as a compliment, damn it. And while Sean himself was hard and flushed, the myriad of tattoos spanning his right arm, chest and back distracted Steve for a moment. He would have liked to ask for the story behind each one – the boxer dog, the skull, the scorpion, the flag and number of bullets, and all the others – but felt that now was not the time for trips down memory lane.

Instead, he kicked Sean's legs apart and knelt between them. One hand wrapped around the base of the shaft and the other holding down his hips, he took Sean's cock as far into his mouth as he could, swallowing around him.

"Jesus!" Sean swore and bucked instinctively. Steve was glad he'd taken precaution by getting as much leverage as possible, and proceeded to hollow his cheeks around the head, tongued all along the shaft, and bobbed up down a little in a fast developing rhythm. Sean's hands mussed through Steve's hair, obviously just needing a connection, and his hips began to stutter before Steve's jaw could start to ache. Steve pulled off again, grinning viciously at the panting moan that became a drawn-out whine.

"Up," he shooed until Sean robbed backwards and his feet didn't dangle off the bed anymore. Crawling on top, Steve made sure their cocks slid together, deliciously friction-less by his own spit. But apparently Sean was having none of it, because a split-second later, Steve found himself pinned to the bed.

"You playin' with me, sailor?" Sean rumbled in mock-threat.

"What do you plan on doing about it, soldier, if I were?" Steve challenged, and decided that Sean's real smiles were too fucking precious to not ever see again.

Rather than answer, Sean transferred both of Steve's wrists into a single hand, and used the other to grab something from the night stand. Holding it up for Steve to recognize a sachet of lube, he tore it open with his teeth, and let it spill all over his hand. Then he whispered into Steve's ear: "Open your legs nice and wide," and moved aside so Steve could comply.

His wet hand played with Steve's balls briefly, pressed against the perineum that had a shock of lust run up Steve's spine, and finally circled his ass teasingly.

"That's a form of torture I could get used to," Steve joked, while his hips hitched, trying to get Sean to penetrate him.

Pointedly, Sean rode out the movements and kept his touch light. "Even if I wouldn't let you come all night?"

"That uh… okay, no," Steve admitted, and a heartbeat later was rewarded by the first finger dipping inside, too shallow for him to be able to enjoy it properly. "Sean. _Sean_." It took a moment for Sean to wrench his eyes away from what his hands were doing. "Let me…"

As soon as his wrists were free, Steve pulled Sean down for another kiss, and groaned as within moments two and then three fingers pushed in, stretching him, curling up and bumping against that spot which ignited fireworks low in his stomach. Sean's tongue mirrored the movements of his fingers, and Steve almost had to push him off so as not to come too soon.

"Condom," he panted, and Sean just nodded before realizing that he should procure one.

"Right. Sorry. Drawer."

Steve rummaged through the nightstand drawer, found one, tore it open, and rolled it onto Sean's dick unasked. Technicalities done with, he grabbed Sean's wet hand, and guided it to lube up his cock.

Sean hissed his pleasure, and when his eyes opened again, they had gone several shades darker. He took control of his hand again, using it to position himself at Steve's entrance.

"Sometime this y—" Steve's impatient remark was cut short, his hips tilted and his eyes screwed shut against the first burn of the stretch, but it faded and all that was left was a friction which had every single nerve ending on his body firing at random. "Yeah."

"God, yes," Sean agreed. The first few shoves were slow, but surely gained momentum. His hand, still slick with remnants of lube, gripped Steve's cock and pumped in counter-rhythm, causing Steve's fingers to dig into Sean's hips painfully.

They both moaned, low and breathy, swallowing each other's sounds in any kiss they could manage. Steve's hands settled on Sean's ass, pushing for an even faster pace until it all blurred inside his head into one steady wave of heat that fed on itself and built until he thought he couldn't take the pressure any more. For a second it felt as if his heart had stalled abruptly – suspension, a feeling like floating, waiting for something that might never come – then it crashed, full force and all at once, causing his back to arch and his breath to catch when it couldn't rush through his throat fast enough.

"Fuuuuuck," he heard Sean swear, his eyes tightly closed and his hips thrust forward, tense as a bow for a couple of seconds until all strength left him, and he all but collapsed half on top of Steve.

A moment later he had regained enough awareness to roll to the side. Steve let his arm drop onto Sean's chest, not wanting to lose the physical connection quite so suddenly. It was a short-lived achievement because Sean got up to get rid of the condom, and when he came back, he stopped next to the bed.

"Is this where you throw me out?" Steve asked, calm and accepting. They'd had their fun, no point in lingering.

"Naw, man," Sean chuckled, and yeah, maybe Steve wasn’t cut out for the whole one-night-stand thing either, because something in his chest lifted. "You just look totally wrecked, I bet not even a three-month assignment in fucking Baghdad would make 'Super SEAL Steve' look like that."

"Oh my God, you talked to Gracie." Steve picked up a pillow and put it onto his face, hiding his mortification of even thinking of the girl after what they'd just been up to.

"No, but Kono told me this story—"

The same pillow hit Sean in the face, because really, Steve did not need to know the kind of stories Kono made up about her boss to regale visitors with.

"Get in bed, under the covers, and sleep. Unlike you, I have to work tomorrow."

"Yes, sir!" Sean saluted, stark-naked and a pillow in the left hand, so ridiculous and hot at the same time that Steve had to turn sideways to ease the stitches he got from laughing so hard.

~end


End file.
